


When No One Can Be Found

by roseandheather



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Spoilers for 2x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8435776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseandheather/pseuds/roseandheather
Summary: "I didn't know you wanted me to."
But she did. 
In the aftermath of "Demons and Angels", Leanne turns to her sanctuary - and finds his arms already open.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to suicidallyreckless, who polished this up while I whined at her about it. Loudly, in a manner reminiscent of a particularly spoiled toddler.
> 
> Still hate you. <3

"Come in."

The figure that walks through his office door is taut and wan, her pallor only more obvious against the shadows under her eyes. She huddles in on herself, fragile and cold, half-dried tears streaking her face.

" _Leanne._ " He nearly leaps out of his chair. "I heard - I'm so sorry."

"You didn't come see me," she says hoarsely, and it's a knife in his heart.

"I didn't know you wanted me to. I- I didn't want to intrude."

She shakes her head, sharp and jerky. "You wouldn't have." 

Following an instinct he barely understands, he stands up and opens his arms to her, tentative, almost shy.

She hesitates, swaying slightly, her shoulders still hunched. Then a small brunette whirlwind collides with his chest, and Ed finally does what he's wanted to do from the moment he heard about Charlotte: he crushes her to him, holding on so tight her feet barely brush the floor. "I'm sorry," he rasps. "Leanne, I am so goddamned sorry _._ "

She makes a broken noise against his chest, and his own heart clenches in sympathy.

"What do you need?" he asks, and he means it.  _Anything. I will do anything._

"I..." she says, strangled, and trembles violently in his arms.

He rubs her waist, her shoulders, slides a hand up to cradle the back of her head. It's as though that one gesture shatters something inside her, because she begins to cry then  **-** agonized sobs torn from her lungs, echoing in the sterile office air. Her knees buckle, and when he lifts her up, it's alarmingly easy; she has never been a slight woman, but she feels light as a feather now.

He cradles her in his arms and carries her to the sofa, where she curls up in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. His shirt goes damp, then wet, with her tears, and he holds on to her as the storm rages through.

Gradually her sobbing eases, even though her shivers don't. Her fingernails still dig into his back, but the pinpricks are distant at best; all he knows is the way she shakes.

Someday he'll marvel at the trust she's showing him, but not today. 

"I've got you." It's all he can bear to say; not _it's going to be all right_ or _shhh_ or _it's okay,_  because none of that is true. But he has to keep talking to her, to let her know he's there, so he does. "I've got you, sweetheart," he says, over and over. "You're safe now. I've got you."

Outside the window, the first rays of dawn break on the horizon. 


End file.
